


Not Exactly The Fashion Police

by Silverfishy



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Guns, M/M, fashion - Freeform, side Daejae, side Jonglo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfishy/pseuds/Silverfishy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Bang Yongguk`s first impression of Kim Himchan is his voice, imperious like a lord – or a brat – as it echoes around the bustling studio. “Get this out of my sight, bring that gold one with the ruffled hem and Jongup, I swear if you touch your hair one more time I will smack you so hard you`ll have to stagger down the catwalk!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Exactly The Fashion Police

**Author's Note:**

> More things I wrote at work. 
> 
> I don't even know, I just wanted fashion designer!Himchan and it all got a bit out of control.

“No, God, do I have to do everything myself?” 

Agent Bang Yongguk`s first impression of Kim Himchan is his voice, imperious like a lord – or a brat – as it echoes around the bustling studio. “Get this out of my sight, bring that gold one with the ruffled hem and Jongup, I swear if you touch your hair one more time I will smack you so hard you`ll have to stagger down the catwalk!”

“Sorry hyung.” The guy standing with his arms raised as Himchan flits around him tugging at seams like an extremely pissy butterfly stifles a grin, but somehow manages to sound appropriately contrite.

Yongguk steps forward. “Excuse me, can I-“

“Ren! Where`s Daehyun? I swear if they get back and Youngjae`s makeup is all over his neck again… Tell them if they mess up my clothes even slightly-!” The fey creature Yongguk is having a hard time pinning down the gender of scurries off, ice blond hair flying, and he tries again to engage Kim Himchan, who is muttering something about `Like fucking horny teenagers, can`t even keep it in their pants…`

“Mr Kim-“

“Where`s that Americano I asked for half an hour ago?” The man snaps without looking at him and Yongguk blinks, stunned for a few moments before deciding he`s had enough.

“Mr Kim!” He barks, using the voice he reserves for scaring the new recruits into order. “I`m not here to bring you coffee.”

The face that meets him as Kim Himchan gets up from his crouch tugging at Jongup`s pants is distinctly unimpressed, even as he roves Yongguk`s body with his eyes, taking in the standard grey suit and cropped, sensible haircut. Probably critiquing his style, Yongguk thinks, and feels vaguely naked under the gaze. He fights the urge to shift his stance awkwardly, and keeps his eyes firm.

“What is the point of you, then?” Himchan drawls, and Yongguk purses his lips before flipping his ID in the other man`s face.

“National Bureau of Investigations, Agent Bang Yongguk. I need to ask you a few questions.” 

He relishes the way Himchan`s perfectly smooth eyebrows raise, but then the other man is pushing slender, manicured fingers into kohl-lined eyes and he`s taken aback by Himchan’s long, throaty moan. “God, fuck, why does the universe hate me?”

“Mr Kim.” Yongguk begins, but he`s interrupted again by a frightened looking intern-type who rushes up and presents Himchan with a coffee cup like she`s handling a snake. 

It`s not far off either, as Himchan hisses at her, snatching the cup from her hands. “Took you long enough.” He takes a large gulp, seemingly fortifying, because when he turns back to Yongguk he looks slightly less like he might shake apart from fury or frustration at any moment.

“Look.” He says. “Mr Bang. Agent, whatever. I appreciate you have a job to do, honestly I do, but it is thirty minutes until the start of this season`s House of K Fall Fashion Exhibition Runway and I don`t have time for this. Talk to my PA, Ren, he can set you up with a meeting as soon as possible, the second the show is over if necessary.”

Yongguk frowns. “Mr Kim, I really must insist-“

“Agent Bang.” Himchan`s eyes are manic, even frantic as he desperately clutches the Starbucks cup to his chest like a security blanket. His shirt is so sheer that Yongguk has to stop himself from staring at the hints of skin beneath. Desperation makes Kim Himchan look fragile, harassed, off balance. “Yongguk. Please,”

“Alright.” Yongguk hears himself say.

-

“You`re what?” Junhong`s voice is incredulous and Yongguk rubs his eyes with the hand that`s not pressing the phone to his ear. He understands the sentiment.

“I`m watching a fashion show.”

There`s faint reproach in Junhong`s voice that Yongguk would reprimand him for if he didn`t feel exactly the same way towards himself. “Do we really have time for that, hyung?”

“No, but…” He sighs explosively. “Mr Kim is apparently too busy to see me until after the show.”

“If you think it`s okay, hyung.” Junhong says, with a voice that means he doesn`t.

“Just… keep working on cracking those files, and keep an eye out. I`ll check in later.” He shuts off the connection before the can hear any more pointed silences from his partner. 

He`s never been good at sitting still, but he tries to pay attention to the show anyway. Maybe there`s a clue, a lead somewhere in the rows of glowing faces watching the catwalk.

Fashion is confusing, and he can`t imagine anyone wearing three quarters of the outfits that are paraded out. Even the few that look vaguely like things an actual human might wear are pieces he would never consider in a million years on himself, although for some reason one or two of the outfits make him imagine Kim Himchan wearing them. His collection is the third set and there`s a tension in the crowd as the first one of his designs comes out.

Yongguk sees a woman in a scarlet cocktail dress lean over the shoulder of a man in an immaculately tailored suit in the front row, whispering in his ear. The man shifts his body weight slightly, and it`s probably nothing but suddenly Yongguk zeroes in on the way the fabric at the guy`s waist moves and is ninety-five percent certain he`s got a gun. 

He`s running through his mental catalogue, trying to place the face of the man, and there`s something familiar about it but he doesn`t know, can`t be sure.

He takes out his phone and zooms in, snaps a shot that goes unnoticed in the flashes of journalists all around him. It goes straight to Junhong along with a message to search for the man`s identity and it`s just a hunch, probably nothing, but he doesn`t believe in coincidences. Following his gut instincts has saved both his life and days of paperwork trails before.

His nerves are racing now and it`s harder than ever to focus on the fashion show, so when the golden graceful form of Jongup comes out he`s surprised, because it mean`s Himchan`s set is over.

He can sort of see why Kim Himchan has a place in what`s apparently such a prestigious event as this one though – even though he doesn`t understand exactly how it works, Jongup looks like a prince. Something about the cut of the material, or maybe the accenting that flashes as the kid moves like water, flowing down the catwalk like it`s a dance. 

He runs a hand through his hair - he`s putting way too much thought into this. It`s strange, though, because when Himchan himself walks out from behind the stage, wearing nothing more complicated than blue jeans, that sheer white shirt and an arrogant smile as he bows to the audience, Yongguk thinks he looks the best of all.

He hears the beep of his phone as Junhong texts back at the same time that he registers the suited man in the front row standing up – there are others standing too, applauding but it`s wrong, different.

`Woo Ji Ho. Zico` the text says, and Yongguk is pulling his gun out even as he watches the other man do the same. 

The people around Zico notice and start to scream. Yongguk`s aim is good but Zico is shooting at almost point blank range and doesn`t have a crowd of two hundred scrambling journalists and fashion devotees in the way, and he doesn’t have time to do more than breathe out before he fires.

The two cracks are loud in the close space, audible even over the rising furor. Yongguk is sure his gun fired first but he`s scrambling forward anyway, past other patrons fleeing the stage and getting in the way. 

He can`t see Himchan anymore.

“Get out of the way!” He roars and the crowd parts like the red sea, although whether it`s the shout or his gun that causes the reaction he doesn`t know.

Himchan is lying on the end of the catwalk, sprawled inelegantly with one leather boot hanging off the end of the stage and his head in Jongup`s lap. The boy – _he`s just a boy_ – is biting his lip and pressing the exquisite folds of his golden jacket to the man`s shoulder. Both the gold and the white of Himchan`s shirt are soaked in blood.

Himchan`s eyes are open but unfocussed and Jongup`s whispers are a hurried litany of both pleas and comfort. He`s clearly just barely holding back tears.

Yongguk feels his heart wrench, but there`s the flash of crimson at the edge of his view and there, at the edge of the hall, the girl in the cocktail dress with her arm around a limping, suited figure.

“Keep him awake.” He barks at Jongup, who blinks up at him looking _so young_ , but Yongguk is gone before he can allow himself to feel anything for the kid. He texts Junhong one handed as he leaps over chairs, doesn`t wait for a reply. 

He sees the flash of scarlet disappear around a corner, races after it and comes face to face with the barrel of Zico`s gun.

The other man is breathing hard, eyes wild, and there`s a dark stain spreading across he front of his suit. It`s closer to the heart than the other man`s shot had been, Yongguk is pleased to see, but the fact that Zico`s still walking around means he must be wearing some kind of body armour.

 _Shit_.

They`re at a stalemate, and this could get ugly fast, especially as he doesn`t know where the girl went. 

He feels the itch in the small of his back like a sixth sense and ducks sideways even as he twists, kicks upwards and catches the red dress girl as she stumbles. The knife she`d been about to stick in his back clatters to the floor.

He`s got a gun to her head before she can blink and then it`s a stalemate again but now he has a hostage between him and Zico, and it`s a position he likes much better.

The other man sneers. “You think I won`t just shoot her too, Agent?”

“I think killing the daughter of your employer might not go down so well. Mr Jun isn`t known for being a forgiving man.” The flicker in Zico`s eyes tells him he`s got it in one, as does the stiffening of the woman`s body against his. “Put the gun down, Zico, and all of us get to walk away from this.”

It`s a weakness, his bosses said, his reluctance to kill anyone. It means sometimes the bad guys get away, and it’s gotten him in trouble before. Junhong had only smiled his bright eye smile up at him and said there`d been nobody else he`d rather partner with. 

Zico`s eyes narrow, but there`s a “Hyung!” from over Yongguk`s shoulder and then he`s leaping, throwing Jun Hyosung aside and knocking Zico`s gun away with his own.

They struggle for a moment, and Zico may be wounded but he`s still fast, slippery, strong. 

Yongguk is stronger. He exchanges a knee in the ribs and a fist to his face for a pistol whip that has Zico crashing to the floor groaning. Yongguk cuffs his hands behind his back.

The source of the interruption is crouched over Hyosung helping her sit up and putting handcuffs around her wrists at the same time. Junhong grins up at Yongguk, that approval seeking kid from the academy still visible in his smile. “Good job hyung.” He says, and Yongguk allows his breathing to start slowing, his heart rate to fall.

“How`s Mr Kim?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

They find the designer backstage lying on a makeshift gurney, not letting the competent-looking woman in the pant suit bandaging his shoulder keep him from chewing out an unrepentant-looking Jongup. 

“Can`t believe you`d do this to me. Do you know how long I spent on that stitching? You just wait until I can feel my feet again!” 

“Hi Agent Bang.” Jongup says, looking up at Yongguk with a sunny smile that seems to brighten the room despite the redness around his eyes. The woman clears her throat, and Yongguk manages to tear his gaze from where the boy is clutching Himchan`s hand like his life depends on it.

“I`d tell you it was the drugs, but unfortunately he`s always like this.” The woman says, tying off the bandage and turning to Yongguk. “Han Sunhwa. I`m this idiot`s eternally underappreciated chief of staff and he should be extremely grateful that I switched careers from nursing.” She accompanies this announcement with a poke to Himchan`s ribs, the uninjured side, which nonetheless prompts a groan.

“Would you get off my back, Sunhwa? Hello, injured party here!” Sunhwa turns away with a huff, but Yongguk can see the way she covers a smile with her hand, only the slightest of tremors to it. He lets her go and turns his attention back to Himchan, who has already switched to a new topic.

“Wow, you`re tall.” He says dazedly, craning his neck to look up at Junhong, who is standing behind Yongguk and blinking back and forth between Himchan and Jongup. “And pretty too. Have you ever considered becoming a model?”

Yongguk coughs pointedly, and Himchan rolls his head to stare up at him with those foxlike eyes, pupils blown wide. “If you`re going to tell me I told you so, you can just leave.” He sniffs, until Jongup huffs and flicks the side of his head, grinning. “Ow! You should show more respect to your hyung! And I`m your boss. I can-“

“Ensure I never do another show in my life?” Jongup echoes, speaking along with Himchan as the older man trails off, repeating the line like he`s heard it a thousand times before. “Please, hyung. You love me too much.”

“Ah, Jongup, was it?” Junhong interrupts, stepping forward. “Could I ask you a few questions? You know, for the report?”

Jongup bites his lip, looks at Himchan, who pulls his hand from the other`s grip and rolls his eyes. “Go on. I`m not going to die before you get back. Get his measurements!” He yells at the retreating forms of the two younger, and receives a dismissive wave in response.

“He seems like a good kid.” Yongguk says, to fill the silence that falls as the other two depart. 

Himchan snorts, pouting. “He`s an idiot. I was sewing that jacket for two months.”

“He probably saved your life.” Yongguk chides, and Himchan pierces him with a stare that is far too perceptive. 

“If I understood Sunhwa-noona right, you did too. She said it was probably only you shooting the bastard that threw his aim off.” There`s something calculating in his eyes and Yongguk rubs the back of his head, embarrassed and feeling awkward again. 

“It`s just my job.”

“Bullshit.” Himchan says, going to cross his arms and wincing before gingerly placing them back by his sides. “I was a dick to you and you took it, defended my honour even. You`ve got some kind of white knight complex, haven`t you?” Yongguk stares at the finger pointed accusingly in his face. There`s a sheen of what looks like clear polish on the nail. 

“It`s fine, I like that in a man anyway.” Himchan`s eyes are still a little unfocussed but the way he smirks up at Yongguk makes his breath catch. “I`ll apologise by allowing you to take me to dinner.”

Yongguk must stare too long, because after a moment the smirk starts to falter, Himchan`s mouth starting to tilt down at the edges. “Oh. Did I read that wrong? Sorry, I-“

“No.” Yongguk blurts out and are all his conversations with Himchan goes to be like this, him unable to process what he says before it`s already out of his mouth? “I mean… yes. I`d like that.”

Even with his shirt caked in drying blood and swaying slightly from exhaustion as they wait for the ambulance, Himchan is stunning when he smiles.

(The smile disappears when they find Jongup and Junhong making out on a pile of discarded accessories, but Yongguk decides he likes bitchy, screeching Himchan too).


End file.
